Eyes
by Ichihime
Summary: 'When he calls them and tells them what happened they will come to him. He'll have to dumb it down for Eagle and find the right tone with Wolf.' K-Unit story
1. I

**Eyes**

It's the eyes that get to him. They're so utterly blank. There's none of the usual emotion there. No mischievous glint or any hint of steely determination that he's so used to seeing.

His friend lies there, his body so still that he believed the worst at first.

It shouldn't be allowed. His friend should never look like this.

It's unnatural.

Freaky.

Just plain weird.

He reads through the reports trying to understand the events that led to this. He knows he should be able to understand. He knows that the others will expect him to. When he calls them and tells them what happened they will come to him. He'll have to dumb it down for Eagle and find the right tone with Wolf.

With the strong smell of almost undiluted coffee in his face he will have to comfort them without comforting and give promises that he doesn't know how to keep. It's his role in the unit. Wolf is most often the leader, the one that makes them persist when it looks bad, and Eagle takes the risky chances and helps them remember why they are doing this, why they never ever should give up. Fox is the back up and the unit member that has the responsibility for human relations, none of the others are capable of holding a pleasant, civil conversation with a normal human being and coming out of it with just positive results. They are all broken in a way, Fox just hides it better.

They're all broken, but they fit together. It's the reason why they're still a unit.

He knows that he's close to losing control when the nurse asks him if he's alright. He gives a shaky nod and wanders past her to the window. When she leaves the room he turns and looks down at the bed.

The eyes that normally looks so dark even though they really aren't stares straight up at the ceiling. He could have looked at the bandages that crisscross his friend's chest or at the bruises that litters his arms. Two of the nails on the right hand are missing and there's a nasty half healed cut where the left arm meets the shoulder.

He knows that there is more where he can't see.

He wishes he didn't have to see this, know this, but he's an adult and it's not in his position to be ignorant. Maybe in another place, another time, they would have been at the pub now, laughing about their latest girlfriends and the last football match that their team lost. Maybe they'd dare each other to do something crazy.

That line of thought is useless and he knows it.

They're in the real world, and in the real world bad things like this happen.

There's no fair or right or anything like that in the real world.

There's no life in his friend's eyes and there probably won't be any in the near future. Perhaps that's a good thing. At least his friend won't have to deal with reality just yet.

He leaves the room and gives a much firmer nod to the nurse on his way out of the hospital. On his way home he'll drop by a store to buy more coffee. Then he'll go to his apartment, make the first cup of coffee for himself and pick up the phone.

He has the numbers memorized and he dreads the following hours.

Soon he'll have to explain why there's no light in Fox's eyes and why it might be for the better.


	2. II

Wolf leans against the hard wall for a long moment before he lets himself slide down onto the hard floor. It's cold, but he's not bothered.

There are more important things to think about.

He shouldn't be sitting here and in a moment a very annoyed nurse will surely be along to raise his hackles with her accusations of him purposefully obstructing the corridors. It doesn't matter that he is. Not to him. He is spoiling for a fight just so that he can release some of his anger.

He won't actually do it, but anything that will distract him from the knowledge of what is going on behind that off white door is more than welcome.

He saw Fox.

Wolf wishes that he had kept away. It wasn't a sight for sore eyes. He's sure the image will reappear in his nightmares for a while.

Fox is not well.

That is the easy way to put it.

It's not that he's injured; Wolf has seen him injured before. Fox has taken bullets before and Wolf has never reacted like this. He knows he hasn't and he knows why.

Just the thought of what went on to make Fox like that…

Wolf has already thrown up twice; so much for his iron stomach.

Fox isn't alright and maybe he will never be. Snake said there wasn't any light in his eyes or, rather, that the light was on but nobody was at home. Wolf knows that Snake felt that the saying fit just a bit too well. Fox isn't responding to anything at all.

Fox's eyes are empty.

There is no emotion in them, nothing familiar. Nothing of the laughter and anger that used to show so well. Nothing of the kindness and patience Fox used to be so known for in their unit. Nothing of the old Fox.

The new Fox isn't very much Fox at all. The new Fox is empty, void of anything that could resemble his former self.

Wolf has to choke down vomit as he gazes at the door across of him.

There's a nurse in there. She's cleaning Fox up. Fox can't do it himself so she's currently, with a bucket of warm, soapy water, washing the still body in there.

Her impersonal touches all across the body of his mate.

Wolf can't help being sick at the thought. Who is she to be touching Fox?

He tries to reign himself in; he knows that he's not being fair. She's harmless and just doing her job. Wolf presses himself into the hard wall and cold floor and tries to let go. He can't, but he does try.

No one can claim he doesn't.

The nurse is just washing Fox and then she will change the bandages. It's all for Fox's own good.

The whole situation reminds him of Eagle, of the long hours of waiting, but he won't think of that anymore.

Eagle is fine.

Fox will be fine.

He tries to believe it. He really does.

And yet…

Niggling doubts attack him, tries to commit a coup d'état on his reason and nearly succeeds. Wolf doesn't allow them to win this time, but no one can say anything of the future.

The door opens and Wolf quickly rises and tries to dust off his clothes. Despite his anger he doesn't want to get thrown out. He needs to be here so much that the need nearly overwhelms him. If Fox snaps out of it he's going to be there to tell him that it's alright and that no one thinks differently of him for what happened.

He remembers Eagle and the long talk he had with Eagle's shrink afterwards. This time he's going to get it right. Wolf will get it right this time and he will guard his mouth as much as possible. His temper won't get in the way of Fox's recovery; it won't be allowed to.

Snake wanted him to stay away for a while, but he's not going to do that. It won't be right, feel right.

Fox is a part of K-unit and will be until his death. He's not dead yet and Wolf isn't going to let him disappear. He refuses to let that happen.

The nurse steps out, gives him a dazzlingly genuine smile (that shouldn't be allowed under the circumstances) and walks down the corridor with only a few words in greeting.

Wolf storms into the room and settles down into the visitor chair. His eyes locks onto Fox's empty ones and he holds the gaze as best he can.

He'll be there, he promises himself. Nothing will keep him away.

It's all his fault anyway, a smooth whisper in his mind tells him. He should never have let Fox leave.

Wolf doesn't talk or make any sound despite the nurses telling him it might help. He looks at Fox, steadfastly, and makes sure that if Fox looks back he will be in his line of sight. Someone will be there when he wakes up.

Fox needs someone familiar to be there when he looks; someone he can trust.

Wolf knows he will stay.

Someone has to.


	3. III

He quietly enters the room just before visiting hours end. No one will dare throw him out after, he knows that. Even so, he feels guilty for coming so late. He should have visited earlier. Yet, he needed a day to adjust to the situation.

At least that's what he tells himself.

Snake's phone call and the subsequent conversation had been less than pleasant. And he worried. Fox's condition resembled his own just one year earlier. Would seeing it send him back into that mind set?

He'd been told to be careful and consider his own reactions. Be egoistic, they say. He can't know how this will affect him, but there is no way he can keep away from the hospital either. Besides, he sees enough bad situations as a soldier. He can pretend that this isn't any different.

And yet it is; this is personal.

For a moment he avoids looking and spends two minutes just drawing the blinds. He doesn't want to look; doesn't want to admit that the nightmare is more real than he could ever have imagined.

Eagle closes his eyes and spends some more time simply breathing and listening to the corresponding shallow breaths from the bed while he feels like an intruder.

Fox is like a doll. He lies there, unresponsive on those white bed sheets. It's like a doll with blank eyes.

The sight is bad, not only because of the reality of the situation, but because Eagle knows that he might have been exactly in Fox's position.

They-

And he almost can't continue that thought, but he soldiers on like the good soldier he is supposed to be. He won't allow himself to slip now.

They, the enemy, had him at their mercy for one day. It feels like it was just yesterday, though the emotions he intellectually remembers are a bit muted now. Time heals and all that is a big, fat lie. It mutes it, sure, but if it heals at all it heals incorrectly.

His shrink keeps telling him it's all right; that it will get better.

Eagle can't believe him.

He knows he will never be the same again; the old Eagle is long gone.

Eagle play pretends that he is his old self, but the happiness and laughter he shows is false. And startlingly few people notices.

His nightmares still wakes up his bunkmates and once in a while he throws up his breakfast for no apparent reason at all. Supposedly he's fit for duty, and, though he might not always agree, he does need something to do with his time. Eagle would have gone crazy a long time ago if he hadn't been allowed to work, if he hadn't been allowed to drown his thoughts in countless repetitions and mindless duties. He knows he's not alright, but that won't change in the near future.

He keeps his doubts quiet for the most part and only Snake knows the truth of it.

Still, you don't just recover from the kind of torture he, and Fox, experienced.

From looking at Fox he knows that he was the lucky one. The blank eyes puts things in a new perspective and he can't help being happy that he is not Fox. It's awful, but that's how he feels.

Fox was gone for a week. A whole week. A week might go by fast for a civilian or someone who has been lucky enough to never be in a spot of trouble, but for someone captive at the hands of the enemy a week can be like eternity.

His one day felt like years; he doesn't know how Fox experienced it.

When Fox gets better(he can't stand to say if) he knows that he can't say that he knows how it feels. He does and doesn't, but from his own experience uttering that well-used phrase will only cause stress and irritation for Fox. Each experience is unique because every individual that experiences them is unique. He will never completely understand in the same way that Fox will never completely understand his one day.

Eagle will offer his silent support, he will stop Wolf and Snake when they get too overbearing and he will listen.

If Fox ever does need a willing ear Eagle will be there.

He'll have to keep an eye on Wolf, just like Snake promised he would do. One wrong word and- bam! It all goes up in smoke. Wolf lacks control and until he gains that he can't be allowed to be Fox's support.

If he can't do it then Snake will, not Wolf at any rate.

Eagle talks.

He talks about the weather, the newest speculations about Cub and how sorry he is.

He talks about anything he can come up with, paying no attention to relevance at all. It's not the words that are important, it's the voice.

Eagle tries to keep his voice as light and cheery as possible, but sometimes his breath hitches and his voice breaks. It doesn't matter though; the voice is still his.

It'll help; he knows it will.

Nothing else is acceptable; there is no other option.

Fox has to get better.

Eagle depends upon it, because he could be the one lying in that bed.

But he's not.

So he talks and wishes and stays by the bed of his teammate.

He's not leaving; this is where he should be.


	4. IV

There's a rather familiar man sitting on the floor.

His face is unshaven, his eyes bloodshot and his finger appears to be shifting dangerously towards his waist.

Cub takes these calm observations to be a result of whatever painkiller he is on at the moment; he has a feeling he would have turned around and abruptly left otherwise.

He settles down on the floor, notes that it's uncommonly cold and stares into the man's face. Gingerly holding his arm he leans back against the wall and decides not to mention that they're obstructing the corridor.

"Wolf," he greets.

For a moment there's only a grunt and some dazed blinking to see before the man's head turns around to face him.

Cub takes some further notes upon seeing the ashen and thin face at close hold. He wonders what ails Wolf, though he is clearly there for someone else.

Who is another question. Considering the type of hospital and Wolf's job he can only guess some kind of military personnel. It doesn't have to be someone he knows, but Cub rather thinks it is. No one should be dying at this floor though.

Is it Snake, Eagle or Fox that inhabits the long-term recovery ward?

Wolf is looking at him and not saying a word. For a moment Cub wonders if Wolf isn't ill after all. Maybe he should call the nurses.

"Do you remember me?" he tries gently. "Cub, you know? Double O Nothing as you would call me."

There's another pause before a sullen voice answers. "I know."

Cub looks at the door across of them, reads the name tag and tries to remember if he's heard the name elsewhere. He thinks he knows, but he isn't completely sure yet.

"Who's in there?" he asks and gives a pointed nod towards the door.

Wolf seems to deliberate for a moment before he shakily raises his hand and drags it through his dirty hair. "Fox."

"Why?"

"Torture."

"Oh."

The word torture brings up a lot of unpleasant connotations in his mind. Cub tries to avoid glancing down at his arm. He usually gets away in time; usually being the key word. There was once-

But no. He is not going to think about it.

"How long?" he asks. It's relevant, though it must have been a while considering the ward. Fox isn't the type to give up after only an hour, unless the torturers merely acted to kill him. If it was for information-

"Seven days. Too long."

Information then.

He wonders if Fox broke and if this is the result.

Cub would have liked to ask Wolf about the details, but he isn't sure if the man can take that. He really doesn't look good. He wonders where Snake and Eagle are and whether they know about Wolf. He wonders why he feels he must be the adult here. Cub hates it, but if needs must…

"How long since you ate? Showered? Slept properly?"

Wolf doesn't answer. He just sits and stares at the door.

"Wolf?"

"Hm?"

"Have eaten today?" It's nearing dinner time. Cub isn't really hungry himself, but he intellectually knows that the lack of hunger is simply a by-product of the medication he's on. He'll eat anyway.

"No."

Cub sighs and wonders what to do. He could get a nurse; obviously Wolf needs proper care and he doesn't seem capable of doing it himself. Wolf wouldn't like that though. He'd probably just yell at the nurse or something. It wouldn't help.

Or he could do it himself.

He sighs again and in a stray thought ponders that it's good to be able to breath properly again. Deciding to check up on Fox first and then take care of Wolf he rises slowly and leans on the wall for support.

"You can't go in," Wolf comments as Cub takes a step towards the door.

"Why?"

"The nurse is-" Wolf stops.

It takes Cub a moment to catch on. "Is Fox unconscious?" He shudders when he thinks of all the time he has spent unconscious here and likely been offered the same attention.

Wolf seems to be about to shake his head before he nods.

Cub takes that as a working yes.

The door is suddenly opened and he can see white sheets, white walls and a window before a nurse steps into the way. She's smiling pleasantly and Cub smiles back slightly in greeting. She's not one of his, but she might be in the future. Better be nice.

Wolf does nothing.

Cub steps into the room and takes in the sight of Fox in the bed. His eyes seem to be open and his body has been mistreated to say the least. Cub has seen worse and yet there is something haunting about those open eyes.

"Fox?"

There's no answer and not a muscle moves in that still body.

"Ben?" he tries again, taking a step closer.

"He won't answer," Wolf says from the door opening.

"What's wrong with him?" Cub whispers to himself, not expecting an answer from Wolf. He moves closer to the bed and spots the general description of the condition Fox is in.

It's not an easy read, with many abbreviations and unknown words, but he gets the general meaning out of it. Fox is there and he isn't. Apparently he's non-responsive to most things and has been for days. They're hoping that he will snap out of it on his own. According to the description the condition is caused by general maltreatment and extreme trauma. And the list of drugs Fox is on is impressive.

"He'll come out of it," Cub says, both to reassure himself and Wolf. Even so, he knows that there's a chance Fox won't.

Wolf doesn't answer. All the man does is stare into the eyes of his unmoving comrade.

Cub takes in Fox's pale skin, blank eyes and expressionless face. He swallows heavily and tries not to imagine exactly what happened to make Fox like that. He'd rather not know.

"Come on, Wolf," he tries quietly.

Wolf blinks.

"You need a shower and some food. Let's go to my room."

Cub leaves the room and, for some reason, Wolf does follow. They go up one floor, down the hallway and enter Cub's empty room. Wolf needs a shower, some food and then Cub will try to get a hold of Snake or Eagle.

Wolf isn't supposed to be his responsibility, no matter what condition Fox is in.

And Cub isn't in any condition to take care of anyone either. He does more than normal teenagers do, he has duties that no one his age should have and he doesn't want Wolf to be another one.

If he must take care of Wolf he will and he won't complain to anyone about it, but it's not his responsibility and he doesn't want to.

No matter how adult he has to be at times, he really just wants to go to sleep to escape the budding nightmare.

Sometimes oblivion is the only escape.


End file.
